An Easter with Soothran

Prologue

He was exactly what a teacher would wish for a student to be, at least, apparently. Attentive and silent in the class, neat and tidy, does all home work, answers their questions and above all has excellent handwriting.

But things are not always as they appear to be.

Trouble used to be routine those days for us guys. Matters such as calling a nick name or linking one's name with a girl used to be a big issues. Fights and slandering were common among the boys which mostly led to Fr. Arzenius or Fr. Clerus to end up in a settlement where both parties suffered.

One thing was noticeable all those days that whenever a trouble occurs, our hero will be somewhere around but he will not be, again apparently, anyway involved in the issues. But without his knowledge or rather initiative, nothing amiss would happen. Even though he spoke only a few words, they were rightly weighed and uttered to the most vulnerable person.

But he couldn't fool everybody, especially our most senior Chacko sir, the mathematics teacher who named him Soothran.

The Easter

I was in the final term of my course, when I found myself to be staying alone at Madiwala, Bangalore. My room-mate quit the course and went to Dubai. There was no one to share the rent. Lonliness was the bigger issue. Only relief was my old friend Soothran was staying only a couple of streets away and luckily they had a TV. So every Sunday after Mass and laundry I used to go there.

Then came Easter.

I couldn't go home and so was Soothran. But all his room-mates would head home. So I decided to spend the Saturday night at his apartments so that both of us can have company and of course a TV.

We woke up late on the Easter morning and decided to go for 9:30 Mass at St. Thomas church. Around 8:45 we postponed the breakfast and headed for the church. We had to walk. The normal route would be to go to Bangalore Dairy and take a left turn.

When we reached St. John's Medical College junction, I told him that I know a short cut and took the road towards Taverekere/ St. John's Woods of Prestige Group. Soothran's face turned grave as he outsmarted me by saying “ I know a shorter cut”.

Maybe, I thought. He is a smart guy and he was at Bangalore for a longer time.

Thus we went ahead and he guided me to a narrow walkway meandering through the compound of the staff quarters of St. John's Medical College. The summer sun was over our heads and we started feeling the heat. In a short while we reached Taverekere main road. I had a vague idea of the bearing and I asked him, shouldn't we take a right turn?

Sothran's face turned adamant and he declared he knew the way very well and asked me to shut up and follow him. After ten more minutes of hard treading under the heavy sun, I was sure that we were lost.

"Are you sure, we will reach the church?” I asked.

"I think we missed a right turn” Soothran.

"That was what I asked you earlier” said I. “But you were very sure.”

Soothran kept a tactful silence and I looked at the watch. It was 9:45.

Then there were not much further conversation, because Soothran was a rather silent guy and the sun took away my interest to talk.

Both of us, lost in the streets, on our foot, scorching sun.

Normally, by any means possible, I would not ask for directions from any body on the streets. But this was an exceptional occasion, yet I didn't ask because I would have to start with where we are now, which will paint myself as a total jackass. And Soothran asking someone something useful is impossible. So we kept on walking ahead and ahead.

Both of us, lost in the streets, on our foot, scorching sun, hungry too.

By then we reached a butcher's lane. Several mutton shops were lined side by side with several skinned sheep hanging and swinging on hooks. A doubt occurred to me, I don't know whether it was due to the sun and hunger, were they rather smaller sheep or bigger dogs. I didn't dare the question seeing the butchers and their choppers. But I asked it to Soothran in Malayalam and he just laughed.

A couple of streets ahead we saw a familiar thing. It was a BMTC bus parked by side. Soothran sid, “My God, this one goes to BTM Layout”. (Since he knows Bangalore better, he knows the bus numbers!!!). I noticed that the lanes were broader here.

Believe me, I was for the first time in my life near BTM Layout.

Now the sun was not a problem and the hurting fatigue in legs unfelt. We moved on.

Finally, I don't know what time, we saw a main road bisecting the lanes and THANK GOD, A BUS STOP. We could see a water tank on the opposite side.

Thankfully we were in a bus shelter!!!!!!!

A bus came and stopped, I didn't ask.

After some time, another bus came. I approached the front door, opposite to the driver and asked

"Madiwala jayega?”

He nodded and and we got in. Soothran got the tickets and there were seats.

After some time, I don't know how long (was it the sun and hunger??) we reached Madiwala. We alighted at the bus stop and walked to Soothran's home.

My best memory is that I fell down to  a bed.

I told him “From now onwards, never again, I will take a road heeding your suggestions”.

Morale of the story:        (but it's not a story, I have to respect the style of literature)

Never trust Soothran on bearings.

(regarding everything else, I have previous experiences)

Wanted: The key of Tortoise

♪♪♫♪♫♫ Disco Baby….♪♪♪♪♪♪
♪♪♫♪♫♫ Disco Baby….♪♪♪♪♪♪ Music filled my school ground and started overflowing to the nearby houses, compounds, hostel and monastery. The metallic, bell shaped speakers, two each at opposite corners of the ground, discharged their best to embellish, the rarest of the rare occasion.
That was our sports day.
The much awaited event of the year, in fact every year, “Annual Sports Day”.
Standard 400 metre tacks were marked with lime, surrounding the ground. Turfs for hurling items like shot put etc were set inside the lap. Do not forget the long jump pit. These things made the ground look much better, even though grass was only a small patch.
Francis baby, our Malayalam master lingered around the podium set to honour the winners, beside which were the flag posts, the tallest one which had our school flag unhoisted, and four minor poles bearing the flags of four houses set among children to boost the spirit. All these looked majestic to my young eyes.
As in every other year, the DySP of Pala hoisted the school flag and shot a round to the sky to mark the inauguration. We really lacked a band to play and parade the ground.
The events started and our sports teacher Mr. K C Sunny seemed the busiest man in that part of the world.
I had nothing to do. I do not participate in any of the items like most of the other people. But cricket matches were going on parallel wherever a straight stretch of minimum 5 metres were available. The petty shops at the foothill had a good time selling rubber balls and soda-limes. Me just watched around and moved over till I noticed worry in this guy’s face.

* * *

Once upon a time, the state government used to declare holiday for schools when there was a private bus strike. Bus operators often found enough reasons to go on strike and we were the happiest lot on the face of the earth. But the fortune didn’t last long. The government changed and they stopped the practice of declaring holidays. We had to struggle hard to get in to government buses and head to school. Classes were regular, but our kind hearted principal Fr. Clerus dispersed the classes half an hour earlier. He had to repent on this decision as it was a huge task for the BIG old man to patrol the school compound with a yard long cane to break up the cricket players and drive them home. From next day onwards an announcement adjoined the evening prayers telling us to head home immediately. We obliged as we knew the consequences would be dire otherwise.

Some guys were smarter and bigger than most of us and they used to pedal their way from home during the bus strikes. Praveen was one among them. From times immemorial, he was always very smart and brave. During these days he pedalled his way from Mutholy to school just like a brave man.

Obviously, Fr. Clerus was clever, but his students were even better. At least some of them were. Praveen was one. They used to ride around after the lunch during the break. The best thing was to take laps in the concreted, mortar paved basketball court. There were many guys in the court but the centre of attraction was Praveen. I was standing nearby to watch the super performances. I didn’t learn riding yet, but these smart kids were well ahead.
Then Pankaj was coming in with his Hercules champion. This was a bigger one with 26 inch diameter wheels while Praveen’s BSA had only 24 inch wheels. Pankaj was from my place and two years senior. He beheld the scene and told me “You just wait, I’ll show you something”. I expected he will have some ace up his sleeve, but I was wrong. He slowly pedalled to the basket ball court in the opposite direction of our man Praveen.
Praveen was approaching the South West corner of the court, where the big, leafy shady tree which blossoms every year had shed leaves abundantly. Seeing Pankaj approaching from the opposite side, our hero panicked and started to wobble. He continued like that for may be two more meters and fell down to the left side, landing on his knee. But he show didn’t stop. He slipped over the wet leaves with concrete beneath for around five meters. I was seeing a cycle crash before my eyes for the first time!!! (This was very simple when compared to the ones I had later).
Pankaj braked and watched in bewilderment. Praveen stood up to reveal a white patch on the left elbow and a neat hole on the left knee as big as a rupee hole.

What I appreciate in Praveen is his presence of mind.

The first thing after he stood up was to pick up the BSA and come to me pushing it alongside and tell me “ I am going to tell at my home that I fell down while playing football. You should not say anything else”. I nodded and by that time the bell rang for the class.

Later in the evening, Pankaj told me he never expected this guy to fall down!!!!

* * *
On this day I am seeing the very same panic which I had seen plenty of times.
Something is amiss for sure.
I went and asked “Praveen, what’s wrong?”
“My cycle key is missing”.
Me “Did you look properly…………. Check your pockets”
“Yeah, but it’s nowhere”
More people approached and soon news was spread that Praveen lost his cycle key. I searched for a while and not finding anything, moved on. I was never much of a retriever.
After some time I heard Fr. Clerus’ voice over the speakers requesting the cooperation of all the students to find the lost key.
The most susceptible place was the playground and almost all the students and teachers were searching there. I was sure that the key can’t remain hidden for long. Suddenly I heard Praveen’s voice over everything.
“I GOT IT, I GOT IT”
I asked “From where did you get it”
Answer “It was in my pocket”.

Rajalekshmi

I got a mail!
I got a mail from Sreeja!!
It was a long time since I had any communication with her, three or four years indeed.
The mail was just a forward about some swamini disgracing our national flag. Mail was relevant, but I was excited about obtaining her mail ID.
She was my classmate in my engineering days; my golden times. Of course all memories are sweet for me, let them be good or bad. She was a good and understanding friend even though she had all the inhibitions of a girl from an orthodox Brahmin family from Kottayam.
In fact I have only a few female friends. This is owing to my nature I believe, especially my indelicate way of speaking and incessant bullying. Normally none comes near me and if by any chance that happens they gets away taking hold of the nearest opportunity. The only exemptions are my engineering classmates. But they are really to be adored, since from the girls’ point of view I am always at fault since I take none of them serious that easily.
Anyway a friendship, after it is established, I never happen to lose. I value relationships very much. That’s the reason why I was so happy at receiving the mail from Sreeja. Immediately I replied to her asking her mobile number.
I received a reply only after two weeks or so.
I dialed her number. Nobody picked up. Tried again after 10-15 minutes, she answered.
I mentioned earlier, my style of speaking.
At the first “hello” I asked
“ormayundo ee swaram?”
She was at a loss. I told we sat in the same bench at college. As expected and in line with which I wanted she got angry. Reply was that she never sat with boy in class. I told that was not true, at least during free times we sat together and bullied each other and especially Rajalekshmi. At this mention she recognized me started scolding me as usual. She is teaching in some engineering college. That’s a typical job for a girl!!!! I know. They can teach because they were nerds, I was not.
But it was very nice speaking to her. I asked her about Rajalekshmi who is our centre character. She told Rajalekshmi is a faculty at TocH Engineering college now.
Rajalekshmi is one of my closest friend. She is from Thiruvanchoor. Every day morning we were together for waiting the college bus at Manarcdadu since we were day scholars. I used to bully her like anything since she was very much prone!!!. I liked it like anything. In fact in the class when we meet each other in the class it was pandemonium. Most of the girls won’t retort after understanding my nature, but she would always hit back. I liked any opportunity to mess with her.
Believe it or not through accustomedness she even learned some spoonerism (like ”Kontha tharangaano?”). Ohhhhh those were fun days....
She was the top rank holder in the entrance in our class, always good at her studies. I was excellent in all OTHER activities except studies.
But I have very good friends from that time which I will cherish throughout my life.
Really about girls because all other than my classmates turned away their faces from me. I enjoyed a very good rapport with my classmates and still I do.
Last time I spoke to her was in 2004 in yahoo messenger. I asked her about her marriage and she replied that as per horoscope it won’t happen in 2004, but will happen only in 2005. OK. But I never heard from her in 2005 or afterwards.
So it was natural that I asked for Rajalekshmi’s mobile number from Sreeja. She gave me the number.
I tried immediately but didn’t got through.
I was eager to speak with her. So I tried the next day. Her father answered my call. I asked for her but he replied she has gone out. I told him, I’m Sijo calling from Bangalore, and requested to ask her to return my call. He agreed. But she didn’t call back.
I remembered that was a HARTHAL at Kerala and a girl like her will not go out on such a day, but she could be gone to her neighbors or so.
Evening by around six o’clock I called her again and received a reply from her father that she hasn’t returned yet. I felt strange about it but didn’t thought about it much since I had other engagements.
Next day I thought about her again and called. Her mother answered and told she’s not feeling her. OK I cut the line. This happened on a Thursday
I was thinking about a job in Kerala. I left for Cochin on Friday and I had to meet Joice on Saturday morning. On Saturday around 6:30 Joice called me when I was on bus. I told him I will be reaching in half an hour. He interrupted me and told there is some news.
“What”
“Rajalekshmi died”
I was shocked “???”
“Yes, today early morning”
“But how”
“She had cancer”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Is it confirmed?”
“yes it is”
I cut the line and called and called Sreeja.
She confirmed the news. I asked her why she didn’t tell me that she was in such a trouble?. Sreeja replied she didn’t knew anything about it.
I called Arif who was almost the coordinator of our class and who was from Kottayam. He replied it is true, they knew she had some problem, but nobody said anything for want of confirmation. Since I was in at Bangalore, I knew nothing about it.
He added that she was at some Hospital at Ernakulam, on her deathbed for the last two weeks. I was totally at a loss......
I asked about the funeral, it was on the same day afternoon.
I had to attend an interview at Cochin in the morning. I can’t make for the funeral since I have to go to Bharananganam immediately after the interview since my neighbor, my childhood mate, had a serious accident on the previous Wednesday late night and is in the ventilator battling for life with a ventilator at Matha hospital.
My GOD what can I do?
What I had done to her, no to her parents, I called again and again and they were answering my silly calls with their daughter on the deathbed.
Then only I realized the gravity of my calls.
I don’t have anything more to say.
Rajalekshmi was a very nice girl. I can vouch that all those who ever dealt with her won’t have anything at all to tell against her. She was so nice to everybody, but...





Note: All the names, characters and incidents in this narration, yes it’s a narration, not a story, are real. Nothing is fictitious.
Sreeja is getting married today (28th of June 2007), and I wish her all the best.
My neighbor is still recuperating and I wish him a fast recovery.